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Excuse the mistakes

Dedicated to Sidthesloth1 who made the banner on the side

READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE

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I woke up feeling like death.

From the moment my eyes opened, I felt ready to die. My head was pounding, and despite the fact that I was barely awake, the sunlight pouring through my window was giving me sensory overload. My stomach was doing somersaults, and my mouth was dry and rough. As I'd said before, I was feeling like death.

"God, kill me now," I muttered, and I rolled onto my back and reluctantly poked my head out from under my comforter. I'd been awake for the past half hour, and I had maybe moved an inch from the position I'd woken up in. At the moment, moving seemed relatively unnecessary. Besides, I was a tad preoccupied.

Last night was a complete blur in my memory. I was remembering bits and pieces, like Olive and Lillian, and my being an idiot and getting pretty much shit-faced. Also, my breath smelled rank, so I was pretty sure I'd vomited at least once. Everything else was uncomfortably hazy, and at this point, I was hoping that I didn't have any kind of heavy petting with someone.

Slowly, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table, and I squinted at the neon green numbers. It was about ten-thirty in the morning, and as comfortable as my bed was, I pushed off my blankets. I was someone who couldn't sleep in past a certain point without feeling guilty and unproductive. It was a curse that was annoying as hell, especially in situations like this.

Not that I was horribly hung over often.

I shook my hair out of my face as I propped myself up on my elbows, and I instantly regretted the jarring actions as my mind swam. After a couple moments, everything started to go back to normal, and I looked down at myself to see I was still clad in my outfit for the party. I wiggled my toes to check and see if my shoes were on, but they weren't. I frowned and tried to figure out why I hadn't attempted to change out of my clothes, but had made the effort to take off my shoes.

That's when my memories hit me.

"Oh fuck," I breathed, and my eyes widened. Gingerly but quickly, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bed. My hands grasped each other in my lap, and I winced as I replayed the events of last night in my mind.

I remembered Duke finding me slouched in the bathroom, Duke bringing me upstairs, Duke helping me into bed, Duke taking off my shoes, me trying to kiss Duke, and me admitting I had a crush on Duke... to his face. Hot damn; drunk me needed to stop making appearances around Duke because I seemed to keep screwing myself over.

"Jesus Harper, learns some damn self-control," I muttered to myself.

I boosted myself up off of my bed, and after a woozy moment, I crossed my room to my dresser. I opened the drawers and grabbed the comfiest clothes that I could find without having to fully bend over. My current objective, which I needed to focus on before worrying about Duke, was to change out of my party clothes and clean myself up.

Slowly, I pulled off my clothes from last night, and I stepped into my favorite pair of black sweatpants. I tugged on a white tank top, and I padded into the bathroom. I squirted a huge glob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and scrubbed my teeth until they hurt. Then, I threw my hair up in a bun without brushing it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the door that joined the bathroom to Duke's bedroom. I bit my lip, and after a moment's hesitation, I took a step and gripped the door knob. I pulled the door open only to find Duke's room empty.

Maybe he went out, I thought hopefully, maybe he was also drunk and forgot about last night, too.

With that thought in my head, I walked out of the bathroom and grabbed my phone. I thought about calling Olive and telling her what had gone down last night, but I also didn't think it was a very good idea. Not that I didn't trust Olive or anything, but because her comments would probably be blunt and annoyingly accurate. I was too hung over to deal with them.

I walked out of my bedroom and slipped down the stairs. I distinctly remember my mom talking about coffee being wonderful when one had a hangover, and I was willing to test that theory. I entered the kitchen, and after turning on the Keurig, I started sifting around in the cupboards for the little coffee packet cup things I don't know the name of. I couldn't find any, and I was getting annoyed.

"Don't waste your time; I already looked."

I jumped and whipped around to find Duke standing in the doorway. He had on a pair of red sports shorts and a white t-shirt, and his hair looked damp, like it was drying from a just-taken shower.

"What?" I asked quietly.

"If you're looking for coffee," Duke clarified, coming further into the kitchen, "I already looked when I woke up earlier."

"Oh," I breathed, and an awkward silence filled the kitchen.

I'd really been hoping that Duke had been out of the house, but here he was. And, judging by the way he was looking at me, like he knew something I didn't, Duke probably remembered what had happened last night. Right now, my options were to just avoid the elephant in the room, or to address the damn thing head on. I reluctantly decided to go with the latter.

"So," I drawled, rocking backwards on my heels, "last night was... a special experience."

"A special experience, indeed," Duke replied with a small smirk. I shifted uncomfortable as I realized that Duke wasn't going to make this easy for me. I had made a stupid ass decision, so naturally, I was going on the defensive.

"You shouldn't have let me drink," I stated, folding my arms awkwardly across my chest. "You, of all people, know I make questionable choices when I'm drunk. Where were you, huh?"

"I was in the backyard," Duke said slowly, "playing catch with some teammates and being completely sober. I came in when someone told me you were projectile vomiting in the bathroom."

"Oh," I drawled, shifting uncomfortably. I really had no idea where to go from here, and my gaze fell to the floor. My defensive attempt hadn't worked, and maybe that was the universe trying to tell me to stop being a pussy and come right out with it. Fine, I thought begrudgingly, fine!

"So, um, about what I said and did last night... I wasn't-"

"We don't have to go into it," Duke replied, cutting me off. "You were inebriated and not in control of yourself. Alcohol is the word vomit elixir. We don't have to talk about it."

I frowned. Maybe... maybe I did want to talk about it. What Duke had called "word vomit" was actually the truth, and honestly, I thought that after last night, with it off my chest, we could maybe talk about it. This window had unintentionally opened, and now that Duke was trying to shut it, I was annoyed. The Duke I had known at the beginning of his stay with me wouldn't have let this die, but the Duke now seemed all too ready to put it to silence. I was confused, and actually a little hurt.

"Right," I said quietly, almost to myself, and then I snapped to attention. "Right, well, since we don't have any coffee here, I'm going to go to Starbucks to get some."

"Can I tag along?" Duke asked, and I hesitated.

No.

"If you want," I replied with a shrug, and Duke nodded. I pursed my lips as I turned and walked through the kitchen to the front hallway, and I shoved my feet into a pair of flip-flops. I grabbed my car keys off of the hook next to the door, and immediately thought better of that and put them back.

"Maybe you should drive," I suggested, glancing at Duke.

"Already ahead of you," Duke said, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

I nodded and opened the front door, and I stepped outside with Duke following closely behind me. Silently, I climbed into the passenger seat of our Jeep, and I put my feet up on the dashboard after buckling my seatbelt. Duke sat down next to me, and within a few moments, we had reversed out of the driveway and were on the way to one of the many Starbucks storefronts in our town.

I tapped the radio power button with my foot, and Paramore's "Ain't it Fun" started playing through the speakers. I resisted the urge to sing along loudly, since it would've been horribly off-key, and instead I just hummed and knocked my fist against the window with the beat.

Other than the music in the car, there was silence, and it was starting to make me uncomfortable. This is why I hadn't wanted Duke to come after he'd cut me off. He may have said we didn't need to talk about it, but after what I'd said last night, things were awkward.

"I noticed that everything was cleaned up," I commented quietly, glancing at Duke out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh, yeah," he replied without taking his eyes off the road, "I got up early and picked up all the trash. There wasn't actually a big mess, surprisingly, so it didn't take very long. I had time to go for a run before you woke up."

"That's good," I said, and the conversation died down again.

Thankfully, less than five seconds later, Duke put on his blinker and pulled into the small parking lot of the Starbucks that was closest to my house. As soon as he turned off the engine, I was unbuckled and hurrying out of the car. Duke could probably tell something was up, but it was up to him to figure out what that something was.

I walked through the threshold into Starbucks and stood in line, and without turning my head, I knew that the person behind me was Duke. I stepped up to order a caramel latte, since caramel is my life essence, but when I reached into my pocket to grab my wallet, I realized that I didn't have it. I'd left it at home.

"Crap," I muttered, and as I opened my mouth to tell the barista to cancel my order, Duke stepped in front of me.

"I'll get an iced coffee, please," he said to the barista, and she blushed as she nodded and typed his order in.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, jabbing him in the back with my pointer finger. "I don't have my wallet, so I can't pay for mine, let alone yours!"

"Which is why I'm paying for both of us," Duke replied simply, and he pulled out a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the barista.

"Thanks," I said, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. After a lingering look at Duke's profile as he made small talk with the bright red barista, I walked over to the station where I would get my coffee. It took mere moments for my order to be up, and as I put a cardboard barrier around it, Duke walked over.

He was reading something on his receipt, and I peeked over to see that the barista had written her number on the bottom, along with the words "call me, stud!" Suddenly, I felt very uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna, um, go sit outside," I said quickly, and before Duke had a chance to respond, I hurried out of the building and found a spot at one of the outside tables with the green umbrellas. I crossed one arm over my chest, and with the other, I took a sip from my coffee.

I didn't understand how, after I'd confessed to having a crush on Duke, he would just go off and get numbers from other girls. I didn't expect him to date me or something, but it would've been nice if he could refrain from being a man whore in front of me. Maybe, if I was thinking logically, Duke didn't think my confession was true, since I'd been shit-faced when I said it.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear, I thought as I looked up to see Duke standing in front of my table. I didn't speak for a moment, and Duke frowned as he sat down across from me. "Harper, are you okay? You just kind of up and left."

"I was telling the truth," I said emotionlessly.

"Huh?"

"I was telling the truth, Duke," I repeated, turning to meet his gaze. "I do have a crush on you. But it's obvious to me that you don't feel the same way. However, if you could just not flirt mercilessly with other girls around me, that would be super nice."

"When was I flirting?" Duke demanded in surprise and confusion.

"I saw you with the barista," I replied, and I rolled my eyes, "I saw the phone number."

"She gave that to me without warning," Duke stated simply, and he reached over and took my hand, "I wasn't flirting with her. I wouldn't flirt with her."

"Oh, and why's that?" I asked grumpily, looking away from Duke.

"Because I have a crush on you, too."

My head snapped around to face Duke, and my eyes widened. "You what?" I asked, not even attempting to hide the shock in my voice and on my face.

"I have a crush on you, too, Harper," Duke stated happily. "I didn't know if you were being honest last night, since you were pretty drunk, and I didn't want to talk about this morning in case you didn't actually feel that way. But now that I know you do, I can tell you that I reciprocate."

Neither of us said anything for a few moments, but then I grinned and laughed. "Okay, not gonna lie, that's a huge comfort."

Duke chuckled and shook his head lightly. "I'm glad," he said, and he smiled at me.

This was something that only happened on TV it seemed like. Crushes being mutual seemed like a distant occurrence that I never thought would happen to me, yet here I was, experiencing it myself. And, let me tell you, it was really awesome!

"So," I said, placing my cup on the metal table, "Since you bought my coffee, does this mean this is our first date?"

"It can be," Duke replied.

"Then let's make it so," I stated with a wink.

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Great. Update. Cool.

Here's the important part of the author's note. STOP ASKING ME ABOUT FUCKING UPDATES! I'm really, really done with it. It's rude, and it decreases my motivation to read. I don't find it flattering when I get messages that say "fucking update, bitch" (I've gotten than message, and variations of it and it's just rude and unnecessary). So, to the people who are going to ignore this author's note and comment "update" on this chapter, thanks so much for actually caring, assholes.

okay, rant over.

hopefully the next chapter will take less than a month to put up. no promises.

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